


sit present in the darkness

by elisela



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Eddie Diaz Week 2020, Emotional Hurt, M/M, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24750145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/pseuds/elisela
Summary: In the midst of stories about their jobs, catching up on what the kids have said, and making endless fun of each other, Eddie’s sitting at his seat with his phone face down on the table in front of him. Occasionally it will buzz and he’ll look around the table, pick it up when he thinks no one is watching. He types something quickly, looks over his shoulder at the kid’s table—where Buck has been since the food was brought to them—and puts it down again.Face down.Karen knows this game. She’s played it before, almost lost.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 764
Collections: Eddie Diaz Week 2020





	sit present in the darkness

**Author's Note:**

> [Eddie Diaz Week](http://eddiediazweek.tumblr.com) day 2: Mr. Diaz Goes to Therapy.
> 
> Lord, just get this man some therapy, please.

It’s Karen that notices first. 

They’re out for lunch—barbecue, because it had been Buck’s choice, but Eddie had mentioned craving some good brisket so of course that’s where they end up—and it’s going like it always does when they get all sixteen of them in a restaurant. Everything is loud, Hen and Athena are laughing at Bobby’s attempt to eat ribs without making a mess, Maddie has two plates in front of her but is eating off Chim’s instead, and Buck’s spending more time at the kid’s table than his own. 

But Eddie’s quiet, and that throws her off. Makes her lean in, makes her pay attention. 

She doesn’t like what she sees. 

In the midst of stories about their jobs, catching up on what the kids have said, and making endless fun of each other, Eddie’s sitting at his seat with his phone face down on the table in front of him. Occasionally it will buzz and he’ll look around the table, pick it up when he thinks no one is watching. He types something quickly, looks over his shoulder at the kid’s table—where Buck has been since the food was brought to them—and puts it down again. 

Face down. 

Karen knows this game. She’s played it before, almost lost. 

She elbows Hen in the side and tilts her chin towards Eddie. Hen glances over and gives Karen a confused look before getting back into her conversation with Maddie, and Karen sighs. 

“So Eddie,” she says, and watches him startle across the table. “How are you and Buck doing?”

“Uh, fine?” he answers, squinting a little. “How are you and Hen?”

She waves her hand, brushing the question to the side. “What is it, going on a year now, right?”

Eddie shrugs. “I’m not sure—I guess?” She holds his gaze and his eyes flicker down at his phone and then back. “Since October, so about nine months.”

“You two getting closer to making any big decisions? Moving in together, marriage, maybe more kids?” She’s pressing, she knows, but there’s just something off about Eddie, something wrong with this whole situation, and—she can’t let him do that to Buck. Questioning him isn’t going to help anything, she knows that, but she wants him to remember what he has, how much Buck obviously loves him. 

She wishes someone had done the same for her. 

Eddie takes another bite of his food, dropping his gaze—his phone, _again_ , not subtle at all if you know what to look for—before answering. “Haven’t really talked about that stuff, no,” he says. He gives her a small, half smile, before he looks over to the side. “Hey, Maddie, if you aren’t going to eat that cornbread, can I have it?”

“Please,” Maddie says, pushing the plate his way. “It’s way too dry for me.”

“Just gotta add some honey,” Buck says, appearing over her shoulder and kissing her cheek before reclaiming his abandoned chair next to Eddie and slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Anyone have more food? I’m still hungry.”

She watches him reach towards Eddie’s plate, and Eddie doesn’t stop him—but he does pick his phone up off the table, lifting himself awkwardly to slide it in his pocket. 

His front pocket, where it’s harder to get to.

She looks at Buck, chatting away happily with Maddie while waves a forkful of Eddie’s green beans in the air, and her heart drops. They’re not particularly close, she and Buck, but she loves him like he’s family, and she knows how devastating it will be if Eddie is in fact cheating on him. She’ll talk about it with Hen tonight, see if maybe she’s just projecting insecurities, seeing normal behaviors as a threat—but she doubts it. Once you’ve been cheated on, it’s pretty easy to see the signs in someone else, and Eddie’s are bright neon red, flashing in front of her face.

* * *

Hen’s pretty sure that Karen is seeing things that aren’t there. She knows her wife is a little hyper-sensitive when it comes to infidelity—rightfully so—but it’s _Eddie_. Eddie is probably the most loyal person she knows, the man was celibate during the entire time his wife had left him and sticks to Buck like glue. They’re inseparable to the point where she’s not even sure how Eddie would have the _time_ to cheat on Buck; they live together without officially living together, work the majority of their shifts together, and every other minute of their day is dedicated to Christopher.

Karen is her wife, though, and Buck’s her friend, so she watches anyway.

Eddie acts normal, for most of the week, but then Wednesday hits. She wonders if it’s a bad mood at first; he’s irritable, snapping at Buck over little things, but as the day stretches on, she sees how he pulls away whenever Buck initiates contact. When Buck puts a hand on his shoulder as he leans over Eddie to reach for the coffee pot, Eddie flinches away. They pile on the couch together after a long call, but Eddie perches on the arm and shoots up the second Buck’s hand settles on his thigh, slouching into the armchair furthest from Buck, alone. They fist bump out of the truck at the scene of a kitchen fire like they normally do, but Eddie is sullen and withdrawn afterwards, leaning into the shade of the truck with his arms crossed over his chest.

And his goddamn phone never leaves his hand at the station.

The lack of contact goes on for three shifts before she breaks.

“Your boo okay?” she asks Buck, watching as Eddie jogs down the stairs and heads out the door.

Buck hums, pulling a handful of puzzle pieces towards his spot and sorting through them carefully. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“You don’t think he’s been—off, lately?” she asks, reaching out and resting a hand on Buck’s arm.

He lifts his head and looks over at her, frowning. “Has he? I haven’t noticed.”

“Buck, he practically bit your head off when you asked him to pass you the salad at dinner,” she says gently.

“He’s just cranky sometimes,” Buck says, shrugging. “You know Eddie. He’ll be fine later on.”

“And he’s on his phone an awful lot,” she continues. She wants to shake him, wants to tell him to open his eyes because she loves them both, she does, but she loves Buck _so much_ and she can’t be the one to tell him that Eddie’s behavior is beyond suspicious. That Eddie’s doing the exact same things that she did, back when she let weakness get the better of her and almost ruined her marriage. That she’d felt such guilt over what she had done that she couldn’t bear to be close to Karen, afraid that she’d confess, pull down what was left of the crumbling ruins of their relationship, afraid Karen would feel the lies written on her skin if she touched her.

Buck doesn’t look at her, just focuses on the pieces in front of him, shifting all the edges to the side. 

“Buck,” she says quietly, willing him to say something; she can help him pick up the pieces after he breaks, but she can’t put them together for him. “He said he was going to go call Chris’ school.”

“Yeah, and?” 

“It’s 7:00pm, baby,” she says gently.

Buck breathes in, sharp and quick, and she thinks that maybe, finally, he’ll talk to her, but he just says, “well, his teachers work late, it’s a good school. You know, I’m actually not feelin’ this puzzle, Hen. Wanna play MarioKart?”

* * *

Bobby likes to think that he knows everything that goes on at his station, but Hen’s whispered worries in his ear when she pulls him aside—well. His first instinct is to laugh, the idea is so ridiculous, but he covers it with raised eyebrows and a non-committal hum, and manages to gently tell her to leave Buck and Eddie be.

Still, he watches.

He thinks about what Hen tells him.

And he talks to Athena.

“Eddie _Diaz_?” she scoffs, sliding into bed that night. “The same Eddie Diaz that followed that boy around like a drunk, lovesick puppy when we went to the bar a few weeks ago, and almost cried when he thought someone was flirting with Buck? _That_ Eddie Diaz?”

“That Eddie Diaz,” Bobby says, chuckling. “Hen was pretty convinced, though. Said the signs were there.”

“She would know,” Athena says, taking his hand and squeezing. “Well, keep an eye on it, Bobby. That boy has been through enough, he doesn’t need this.”

Bobby’s never cheated on his wife—neither of them—but he does have experience with keeping secrets, and the more he watches Eddie, the more convinced he is that there’s something there. He doesn’t want to call it cheating, not without proof, but it’s definitely _something_ , because Eddie is suddenly full of reasons as to why he can’t participate in things.

He shows up to Denny’s birthday party, but says goodbye halfway through, leaving Christopher with Buck. Invitations to movies, park playdates, and bars are declined, graciously but firmly, leaving no room for discussion. On several occasions, he agrees, but Buck ends up coming alone. Eddie’s mood seems lighter with each passing week, he seems _happier_ after each missed get-together, but Bobby’s eyes are on Buck and the way he deflects questions about Eddie with apparent ease, though the strain shows in his face after a while, his voice tighter with every flimsy excuse.

“Something is definitely wrong,” Athena says weeks later, her voice hushed, pulling him to the corner of the patio. “I think it’s time you talked to Buck.”

“Not Eddie?” he asks. 

She levels a look at him. “Bobby—I know they’re both your boys. But if this turns out to be what it looks like? You’re going to have to choose a side. And it better be Buck’s.”

“It could be something else,” he says, though he’s starting to agree with Hen’s assessment, as much as he dislikes it. Athena raises her eyebrow, and he sighs. “I’ll go talk to Buck.” He kisses her cheek, sets his jaw, and walks over to where Buck is sitting alone, idly peeling the wrapper of his beer bottle off while he watches the kids play in the sprinkler set up at the far edge of the yard.

“Haven’t seen Eddie in a bit,” he starts with, lowering himself down onto the deck. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Buck says, ducking his head. “He couldn’t make it, sorry. Abuela needed some help. I offered to go, I know he’s missed a few things lately, but you know Eddie. Insists on doing everything himself.”

Bobby passes the bottle of water in his hands back and forth, looking at Buck carefully. “Is everything okay with you two?”

Buck nods, but doesn’t look at him, doesn’t meet his eyes. 

“My door is always open, Evan,” he says softly, and that makes Buck flinch, look over at him with an unsteady expression. “For anything. Okay?”

“I know, Bobby,” he says. “Don’t worry about it. I know, okay? I know what Hen’s saying, she’s not very subtle. _Please_ don’t let it get back to Eddie.”

Bobby hesitates. “Buck—”

“ _Bobby_ ,” Buck’s voice holds a hint of desperation, and he looks away before he adds, “please, just let it go.”

They sit there quietly for a moment but Buck gets up not much later, gathers Christopher, and makes his excuses to leave. 

* * *

Being called into the Captain’s office first thing is never fun, but Chim can honestly say he would have rather been called in for a reprimand than what Bobby actually wanted to talk about. He’s considering seeing if anyone from the next shift needs him to pick up any hours, in fact—anything to get out of talking to Maddie about her baby brother.

_Have you noticed anything going on with Buck and Eddie?_

The thing is, he hadn’t. He’s been a little preoccupied lately, what with the newborn currently occupying all his available time at home, and worrying about Maddie during his down-time at work. So if Eddie had been a little secretive with his phone, well, Chim probably dismissed it as him not wanting everyone to be nosy. It’s not like he hadn’t complained on several occasions during his time at the 118 that they needed to stop prying into his life—especially where Buck was concerned. And should they really be worried about Eddie skipping out on low-key team events? God only knows Chim wished he could skip half of them lately, but Maddie looks forward to their time out of the house and he would never ask her to give that up.

_Has Maddie noticed anything_? _I don’t want to push, Chim, but_ — _maybe you could ask her to talk to Buck_.

“Alright, what would you say if Maddie wanted three more kids?” Hen asks, looking over at him. 

It’s Buck’s favorite way to pass time lately, asking inane questions, and Hen’s been humoring him. No topic was considered sacred; over the last three days, Chim has had to listen to his teammates answer everything from favorite ice cream flavors to preferred sex positions (only Hen had answered that one. Chim had pretended he didn’t hear, Bobby had sighed deeply, and Eddie blushed a bright red and kicked Buck under the table).

“What, right now?” Chim asks. “Definitely not. I haven’t had more than three hours of consecutive sleep in the last four months. We could go for one more, though, in a few years.”

“Maddie’s always wanted a big family,” Eddie says, and when Chim looks over at him, he shrugs. “What? Buck talks. I listen.”

“Aww,” Buck coos, reaching over and ruffling Eddie’s hair, laughing when the pillow Eddie grabs hits him in the ribs. “You love me.”

“Touch my hair again and I’ll rethink that,” Eddie threatens, but he smiles as he runs his fingers through his hair, flattening it down again.

Chim watches them closely, searching for anything amiss, but—he sees nothing unusual. This is always what Buck and Eddie are like at the station; a little less affectionate than they are after work, but still managing to tease and touch and stay connected. He’s pretty sure Hen’s seeing things, though he’s not exactly sure why Bobby is buying into the whole mess.

“Eddie, what would you say if Christopher brought home a girlfriend?” he asks, because this is how the game works today.

Eddie stares at him. “How’s he gonna bring home a girlfriend, Chim? Is Uber driving around ten year olds now?”

“Hypothetically.” 

“Hypothetically, I would tell him he’s way too young for a girlfriend,” Eddie says, frowning. “A girlfriend. _Jesus_. Do I need to start worrying about that now? Hen, is Denny bringing home girlfriends?”

“He better not even be thinking about girls—or boys—yet,” Hen says, “but I think it’s coming soon.”

Buck pats Eddie’s knee and Chim watches as Eddie shifts a little, still frowning. “Don’t worry, Eddie, we’ll deal with it when it happens.”

“Girlfriend,” Eddie mutters again. “Christ. Okay, uh, Buck. What would you do if I cheated on you?”

The only reason Chim feels the shift in the room is because he’s watching Buck. It happens so quickly that if he hadn’t just talked to Bobby that morning, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed the way Buck swallowed hard and sucked in a quick breath before he said, in a remarkably even tone, “I’d leave your sorry ass,” and added “but it’s not like you ever _would_ ,” after a quick glance at Hen and Bobby. “Bobby, what would you say if Athena quit her job?”

Well, shit.

He’s going to have to talk to Maddie now.

* * *

“Are you trying to tell me that Eddie is cheating on Buck?”

Chim shifts his weight from one leg to the other in front of her, looking so damn nervous that Maddie’s throat goes dry. He _is_. That’s exactly what he’s trying to tell her, and it’s—

“Impossible,” she says, shaking her head even as her mind is racing. It certainly sounds suspicious, everything Chim is saying, but she would have noticed, wouldn’t she? Buck doesn’t hide his emotions well enough to cover something like that if he’s suspicious. “Buck would have come to me,” she says, setting the laundry basket she’d been holding down and reaching in to grab a tiny onesie.

Chim’s quiet, and then he says, “Maddie, would he? When’s the last time you really talked to him?”

And that—that hurts. “It’s been a few months,” she says quietly, looking around at the baby clothes in the basket, the diapers and socks and toys littered around the room. She hadn’t meant to be too busy for her brother, but things happen and she had assumed everything was okay.

Maybe it’s not.

“No one blames you,” Chim says gently. “I hadn’t seen it either, but—it got weird today. I googled signs of your partner cheating and I have to admit, it does _look_ bad. There’s a whole lot of red flags.”

“I’ll talk to Buck,” she says. “But I can’t believe that Eddie would do that to him.”

“We’re all going over there on Thursday,” Chim says. “Just watch, Maddie. Maybe we’re all wrong.”

She doesn’t think they’re wrong. Eddie’s normal, for the most part, but she finds that when she watches him constantly, there are tells, just tiny shifts from his typical behavior that are easy to miss: the way he looks towards Buck every time he picks up his phone, the small smile on his face as he hurriedly types out a text, the way he deflects every request from Christopher to borrow his phone for a game until Buck slides his down the table instead.

“You two are so cute,” she says impulsively. “Let me have your phone, Eddie, I want to take a picture.”

Eddie’s jaw tightens, just a bit, but Buck jumps in before he can say anything. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Left it in the car,” she lies.

“You and Chim took a selfie earlier.”

“That was with his phone,” she says, and Buck narrows his eyes.

“Eddie, come help me in the kitchen,” he says abruptly, shifting his gaze towards Eddie.

Maddie watches them go, watches the tense line of Eddie’s shoulders, and blows out a breath. “Chim,” she says quietly, trying not to let her voice shake, reaching for his hand. “He _knows_ doesn’t he? He knows and he’s just—he’s accepting it. I have to go talk to him.”

“Wait,” Chim says, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She leans on him, heart broken for her little brother. Buck, who’s so kind and good and selfless, who doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. Who _certainly_ doesn’t deserve to _think_ he should be treated like that. “Just wait until everyone is gone, okay? Wait until it can just be you two.”

She can’t. She pushes back from the table, anger flooding through her, giving her purpose with each step. The back door of the house is propped open, granting easy access to the kitchen, where all the food is laid out. It doesn’t surprise her to see they’re not there, so she goes right through, intent on finding them, but stops short when she hears Eddie’s voice coming from Christopher’s room.

“—hoping you would have time tonight, just let me know, Sarah.”

She backs out of the hallway, flattens herself against the living room wall. All of her rage rushes out as heartache floods her system, tears stinging her eyes. She’ll get Buck alone tomorrow, she’ll talk to him, because no one— _no one_ treats her baby brother like this.

Especially not the person who is supposed to love him most.

* * *

Buck groans behind him as he comes into the kitchen. “Aw, the dishes aren’t done yet?”

“They’re not done at all,” Eddie says, “I cooked, you clean. House rules.”

“Yeah, but I had to eat what you cooked,” Buck says, grimacing, but laughs when Eddie picks up the dish towel and snaps it at him. “Isn’t that punishment enough?”

“Keep talking,” Eddie says, raising an eyebrow. “Is that why you stalled so long coming back from Abuela’s?” Buck’s sheepish grin tells him everything he needs to know. “Get over here,” he says, rolling his eyes, reaching out for Buck when he’s close enough. Buck’s arms wrap around him immediately and Eddie sinks into him, breathes in the familiar smell, feels goosebumps on his arms when Buck’s lips find the sensitive spot right below his ear. “You know—,” he starts, but the knock on the door interrupts him and Buck groans again before he steps back, out of Eddie’s arms.

He busies himself with the rest of the cleaning, but it only takes a minute and he heads towards the front door, curious about what’s got Buck’s attention—likely neighborhood children selling something, and he should probably make sure Buck’s not emptying his wallet for whatever scheme they have going now. It had started innocently enough, with legitimate Girl Scouts and their cookies, but Eddie’s pretty sure there’s no charity asking people to pay five dollars for a Hershey bar (and even Buck had the good grace to look appalled at that—not that it had stopped him from buying four).

But it’s not a neighborhood kid looking for their next mark, it’s Maddie, and when she sees him, she ducks under Buck’s outstretched arm and marches into the house with, “fine! If you’re not going to talk about it, then _he_ will.”

There’s a venom in her voice that he’s not sure he’s ever heard before and it makes him blink, come to a halt. “What’s going on?” he asks, looking between them.

“Maddie’s leaving,” Buck says, his voice tight. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Mads. Go home.”

“Do you _know_ how much he loves you?” she says to him, ignoring Buck completely. “He doesn’t deserve this, Eddie.”

“ _Maddie_ ,” Buck says again. “Go home.”

“I know,” Eddie says, looking back and forth between them, frowning before focusing on Maddie, who’s wild-eyed in front of him, her cheeks stained pink. “I know how much he loves me.” He’s not entirely sure of what Buck doesn’t deserve—he doesn’t deserve Buck, he knows that very well, but if Maddie needs to know, well.

“And you still treat him this way?” Her voice is bordering on hysterical, but what worries Eddie is that Buck seems to know exactly what’s going on by the way he puts himself between them, one hand finding Maddie’s waist and the other on her shoulder, trying to turn her around. “You don’t deserve this, Buck, you don’t have to put up with this.”

“Time to go,” Buck says. He’s not pushing, Eddie sees that, but he’s using his body against her, forcing her to shuffle back towards the door.

“Buck, stop,” he says, reaching out and pulling him back. “Come on, it’s fine, you’re going to hurt her. Maddie, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if there’s a problem—”

“Is it just sex?” she spits out, and Buck freezes under his hand. “Or are you looking to replace my brother entirely? Everyone’s seen it, Eddie, you haven’t been careful about hiding, texting when everyone can see you, all those stupid excuses about why you can’t come over just so you can go see _her_ , and—and Buck _knows_ , that’s the worst part, he _knows_ and he’s just letting it happen.”

His mouth has gone dry and he swallows hard, desperately, looking over at Buck. “I—”

“No,” Buck says with a tight shake of his head. “Maddie, you need to go. I’m not kidding.”

Eddie feels numb. He tries to grab Buck’s arm but his fingers won’t work, _everyone’s seen it_ echoing in his head as Buck picks Maddie up off the ground and walks over to the door. “It’s not what you think,” he manages to get out before Buck cuts him off.

“You don’t owe anyone an explanation,” Buck snaps, setting Maddie down and blocking the doorway. “And _you_ —you need to listen when I tell you to mind your own business, Maddie.”

“You’re my brother!” she says, and even though Buck’s trying to shield him from this, Eddie can still see the tears on her face and the hateful way she looks at him. “You deserve better than this, Evan.”

Maybe he does, if this is what they think of him, Eddie thinks, staring at the way Buck’s trying to get the door shut without hurting his sister in the process. Maybe they’re seeing something in him that Buck doesn’t, _can’t_ , maybe it’s something that can’t be fixed no matter how hard he tries. “I’m not cheating on him,” he says quietly, ignoring the desperate way Buck says his name. “It’s not—there’s no one else, Maddie, I’m not cheating on him.”

“That’s—”

“Eddie, you don’t have to tell her anything,” Buck says, but he seems to know it’s inevitable because he steps back and lets her through the door. 

“It’s my therapist,” Eddie says. He tries to keep eye contact with Maddie but it’s too much, too much of his head telling him that everyone’s right, he can’t be trusted with Buck’s heart and love, too much anger, too much shame in knowing that even though he’s trying, he’s not enough, will never be enough to hold all the love Buck has to give. Buck’s a solid presence at his side now, his hand carefully fitting into the small of Eddie’s back. He shifts away from it, he can’t handle it, can’t accept Buck being so gentle when Eddie’s about to shatter.

Maddie’s still glaring at him. “That doesn’t explain the texting,” she says, but her voice holds an uncertainty that it didn’t earlier.

“Teletherapy,” he says. “Buck set it up. I have … trouble, talking face to face about stuff. It was easier to just text. And—”

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain,” Buck says. He moves with Eddie; not touching, but _there_ , always there, and Eddie’s so pathetically grateful for him and the way he tries to protect him that it hurts. 

“They think I’m hurting you,” he says quietly. “I need them to know I’m not.”

“ _I_ know you’re not.”

“But they don’t,” Eddie says, desperately, motioning to Maddie. “They think—” he breaks off, feels his face heat up. He doesn’t know how to explain this to Buck, doesn’t think he can with Maddie around, how it tears at him to know that it was so easily accepted that he could break Buck’s heart like that.

“Eddie,” Maddie starts hesitantly, “I’m sorry, I was just—I was concerned for Buck and—”

“It’s okay,” he says.

“It’s not okay at all, and I’ll deal with that later,” Buck says, stepping in front of him. “Maddie, you need to leave now. And I mean that.”

She leaves without another word and Eddie backs up until he can sink down onto the couch, putting his head in his hands. Buck sits beside him, quietly, his hand hovering over Eddie’s knee until he nods, closes his eyes, and feels Buck’s hands on him, gentle and comforting. “I’d never,” he says, _trying_ , needing Buck to know.

“I know, sweetheart,” Buck says.

He feels Buck shift against him, allows Buck to pull him closer, into his arms, but shakes his head when he opens his eyes and sees him holding Eddie’s phone out. “Buck, I can’t—”

“It’s what a therapist is for,” Buck says.

Eddie feels him press a kiss against his temple, soft and warm, and he takes a deep breath before accepting the phone. He stares down at it, therapy app open, letting the soothing rub of Buck’s fingers on his arm calm him before he starts to type: _my friends think I’m cheating on Buck._

A minute later, the reply: _how does that make you feel, Eddie?_

It’s surprisingly easy, wrapped up in Buck, to type back: _it hurts_.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to yell at me on tumblr @ [hearteyesforbuck](http://hearteyesforbuck.tumblr.com/).


End file.
